Father's Day
by JBSlarti
Summary: This isn't my father, but he is close enough, and I may never get another chance. Featuring Nightcrawler and Nocturne.


_Father's Day  
__AN: This story was written sometime in 2001 and was my first with Nocturne.

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The late afternoon sun cast patterns of light and darkness across the small Salem Center church. Kurt Wagner kneeled before the small altar, watching the crucifix. The colored light of the ornate stained glass windows slowly danced across the gentle face of the bearded man on the cross.

The door squeaked minutely behind him. His ears picked up footsteps approaching the altar and his eyes slid shut, tears squeezing from the corners and down his cheeks. _My God, why can't they leave me alone,_ he thought.

"Daddy?"

_Daddy?_ Not some other well-wisher from the mansion then. A lost child perhaps. No, the voice was young, female, but not that of a child. Kurt straightened from his position, wiping his face with one hand, and started to turn toward the girl with a gentle smile on his lips. "My child, I'm not ..." His words trailed off as his visitor stepped out of the shadows.

"No, I can call you daddy. That's what you are," T.J. Wagner said, twisting one of her dreadlocks nervously around a long blue finger, her bare foot raised like a nervous doe's.

She gasped inside as he stepped into the light, his mouth hanging open inelegantly. The priestly black and white collar stopped her heart cold, but it was him. He was so much younger than she had ever seen him look, his curly hair untouched by gray. Her father had shaved off his hair once it turned gray and thinned.

Memories flooded her mind as she looked into his wide yellow eyes. On a day not unlike this one, he had taught her to ride a bike on the basketball court at the mansion. His chin had rested on her shoulder, his arms around her, curling her small fingers around the handlebar. A softly accented voice in her ear had instructed her. An errant breeze had blown his indigo hair across her nose and made her sneeze, nearly falling off the bike from its force. Laughing, he had lifted her off the bike for a hug. She smiled at the memory and returned her attention to the sputtering young man in front of her.

"W-who are you?" he asked, his head cocking to one side in an unconscious expression of wonder she was very familiar with. He took a few graceful steps toward her, his tail switching behind him.

_Yup, collar or no, that's dad,_ she thought, tension draining from her. "Oh boy, I don't know if you're gonna believe this, but I'm Talia Wagner. I'm your daughter."

"Excuse me," Kurt dropped into the nearest pew, as if his legs could no longer hold him. He rubbed his temples, opened his mouth to speak and then shut it with a snap. He smiled. "Nooo, this is a joke. Who put you up to this? Bobby?"

The nervous smile vanished as she walked toward him, his mouth dropping open again. "Still, the resemblance is ... remarkable."

She was as tall as him, and, in fact, looked like a tailless, female version of him. Yellow eyes grinned along with her white, toothy smile. Her smooth blue skin was a few shades lighter than his, as was her hair, and pointed ears peeked through her long dreadlocks.

T.J. laughed, a musical sound that was oddly familiar to Kurt. Folding her long legs, she bonelessly plopped onto the carpet in front of him.

"It's no joke, dad." She smothered a grin as Kurt cringed; she was beginning to enjoy this. "I'm your long lost daughter ... from another dimension, of course."

"Of course." He looked relieved and worried by turns.

"And let me tell you, you'd die laughing if you could see yourself in that outfit."

"Hey ... okay, that's it. I've finally gone barking mad," Kurt threw his hands up and addressed the air. "Or I'm suddenly a Summers."

"Ha! Now that's the dad I know!" T.J. laughed a little harder than the comment warranted, watching her father's reaction. His eyes searched her face with a horrified, curious look on his face. _That's it dad,_ she thought, _just chill. I'm telling you the truth._

"So, T - what did you say your name was? - how did you get here?"

"T.J., Talia Josephine Wagner. And I'm here with Blink and some others."

"Blink is dead, leibchen."

"Not in her home dimension, though it doesn't exist anymore. I guess, now, you're dead in mine," that idea still hurt her, and she noted Kurt's dark brows rise in surprise. "That's why we're here. Everyone on our team's timelines have been messed up, and we have to fix it or, poof - we're dead."

"A little like _Quantum Leap_, eh?" He smirked, not quite believing her.

"Heh. Yeah, we had that show too. Yup, just about like that," she grinned, aware of how outlandish it sounded. "'We're putting right what once went wrong and hoping that each leap will be the leap home.'"

Kurt snickered. "So, where is the rest of the team? And why are you here?"

"They don't know I'm here. Sometimes we try to find our counterparts on different worlds or our friends and family, even though we're not supposed to." She shrugged, deciding he didn't need to know everything. "I guess it's the next best thing to visiting home. I grew up in the mansion on my world, but you weren't there. You took me to this church as a child, so here I am. I had a hunch I'd find you."

"I see, well, not really. But I'll play along," Kurt grinned a familiar grin and she looked down, feeling a painful tug in her chest.

"Of all the worlds we've been to, this is the first time I've tried to find you," she said, picking at the carpeting with her short nails. They were polished as bright red as her lips, Kurt noted with a curve of his.

"I've seen some weird things in my life, so I don't disbelieve you," he said softly, sliding out of the pew to sit by her on the floor. He leaned forward to catch her eyes. "Tell me about your world, T.J."

She looked up into his face, her eyes filling with tears. "Well, that's part of the problem. My world, for me, is gone, unless I can fix things. Somehow, you died before you ever fathered me. So I don't even exist anymore." She shivered a little, smiling weakly. "It's very unsettling."

"I-I can imagine. I had a friend who was in a similar situation, as strange as that may sound." He reached for her hand, squeezing it to cover his own discomfort. "But she was a Summers, so it was expected."

Barking a short laugh, T.J. looked at her hand in his. Their skins complimented so well. _Dark on light, _she thought. _God I miss this._

She sighed, looking into his face. This close, she could tell he wasn't much older than she was. His face was unlined, both eyes bright in the semi-darkness of the church. _Is he this age when he dies in my world?_ Her lip quivered. His expression changed to concern and she realized she was staring.

"I'm sorry. I've just never seen you this young, and with both eyes."

He blinked. "My eyes? First you tell me I'm dead, and now blind? I suppose next you'll say I lost my hair."

She grinned. "Good guess."

"Ach! Blind, old and bald as the professor!" he laughed nervously.

"No, you lost one eye on a mission before I was born. You're not old, just older. In my world, you and Uncle Logan run the X-Men and the school. The professor retired years ago. He just fishes a lot now, and complains."

He snorted. "Herr Professor does a lot of complaining now. Logan and I, huh? And you? Are you an X-Man?"

"Yup, trained by you and mom."

"Mom ... yes, I suppose you do have to have one..." he looked up at the stained glass windows flanking the crucifix, fanged teeth chewing his lower lip. Closing his eyes, he sighed, "No, I don't want to know who she is."

"You and her have been married, like, forever. That's why I was surprised at this," she indicated his collar with a wave of her free hand, and scooted closer to him. "So, what's this world like?"

He raised his hand to his neck to brush the collar with his fingertips, they trembled. Swallowing heavily, he looked down. "Well," his voice was distant. "The professor is still in charge. Cyclops has just returned to the team, he was missing for a time and we all feared him dead. They are rebuilding the team ... it has been a hard year."

The sadness in his voice left her with nothing to say. "Oh. I'm sorry," she said lamely.

He raised his eyes to hers. "Why really did you seek me out, T.J.?"

She shrugged. "Just like I said, and, I miss my dad. I love you very much, and I just wanted to tell you that." Her eyes dropped to his throat. "It looks like you won't have me in this world though, so maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Nein, I'm glad you did. You're a beautiful woman. I'm glad my genes transferred so well," he grinned that grin again, a little forced this time.

"What is the story with that collar, if you don't mind my asking. I mean, you are religious, but a priest?"

"I'm not one yet," he said softly. "It seemed a good choice. For a time, I was very happy in my training. But now, I'm not so sure. After Poitr's death, I went a little crazy."

"Colossus is dead here!"

"Ja, I'm afraid so. I thought I couldn't be both an X-Man and a man of the cloth. I thought there was too much injustice in the world and Xavier's dream was growing worn. I thought I could do more good as a priest, so, I quit the X-men." He grimaced, "I guess I don't know what I thought."

"'Your heart knows what is right, liebchen, follow it,'" she quoted in a deep, badly accented voice. "That's what you always told me anyway."

He wrinkled his nose. "Do I really sound like that? Ach. Still, I suppose it's true." He rose from the ground in a smooth movement, pulling her with him.

He grasped both her hands in his, stepping back to look at her. "Well, it looks like at least I raised you well."

"Yeah, daddy, you did."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She pressed her face against his neck, swallowing back tears.

_This isn't my father,_ she thought, _but he is close enough, and anyway, I may never get another chance._ She squeezed him harder. He kissed the top of her head and rested his chin against her forehead.

"Good luck, mein liebling," his throat vibrated against her cheek. "I hope you succeed, for both our sakes."

She broke contact with him, stepping back to look into his eyes. "Thank you. I needed that very much."

"Do me a favor, when you get home."

"Anything," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Kiss your mother for me."

She laughed, cocking her head in an expression Kurt recognized in himself. "Are you sure you don't want to know who she is?"

"Nein, I'm not sure at all," his eyes lifted over her head to the cross. "But I think it's better that way." He looked at her one more time, drinking in her face with his eyes. "Besides, you look just like her. I never would have believed it, but the proof stands before me."

She nodded her understanding and turned to go. "Goodbye, Kurt."

"Goodbye, my child."

He watched her walk up the isle until she disappeared in the shadows of the anteroom. Briefly, he thought of a future world with T.J. in it. Of tiny fingers reaching out of a crib to curl around his own. Of her radiant smile, tinged with shades of his face and that of another.

Returning to the altar, his knees gave out before it. Bowing his head, Kurt Wagner prayed for the wife and daughter he would never have.


End file.
